


o' child of night (you were born with dawn in your eyes)

by CharlotteDaBookworm



Series: Ardynson AU [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ardynson AU, Baby's First Warp, Chosen of Ramuh Nyx, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Galahdian Culture (Final Fantasy XV), Gen, Good Dad Ardyn, Growing Up, High INT Low WIS, Magic, Magic training, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, The Squirrel Incident TM, teenagers being idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 13:40:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20836388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharlotteDaBookworm/pseuds/CharlotteDaBookworm
Summary: Nyx Ulric grows up in Galahd.He grows up with his mother, with his sister, with Libs who might as well be his brother. He grows up with his dad.And they're happy. It's not perfect, but they're happy."What's the point in them being happy now if they're going to be sad later? The answer is, of course, because they are going to be sad later."(or: the ardynson prequel you've probably not been waiting for)





	o' child of night (you were born with dawn in your eyes)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own FFXV

* * *

Alya hadn't told him.

The reasoning behind her choice was obvious; he simply wouldn’t have believed her if she had told him she was with child. With _his_ child.

He was scourge-afflicted, infertile, and he had been for millennia. Nothing but divine intervention would have allowed him to sire a child and even then - Ardyn was no friend to the gods, nor was the scourge so easily circumvented. And, even _if_ it were possible, the Draconian would have killed any child he sired while it was still within its mother's womb.

It was the final part of his curse, the last piece of his punishment for daring to defy the gods and believing he could _save people; _he would never have the family he once craved.

His line would die with Somnus', forever bound by the whims of the Astrals. But Ardyn would have the last laugh.

But he would never have a child.

So, friendly acquaintance or no, if Alya had told him then Ardyn would have called her _liar_.

Which is why she hadn't.

No, instead she had simply waited until his wandering and his plotting next took him in her direction, as she always had (for theirs had always been a distant sort of friendship). 

He understood.

A part of him raged against the decision, against her, despite that.

And when Ardyn had come to meet infant blue eyes with flecks of a bright gold, when he had stumbled to a stop (graceless and bumbling, he sneered at himself) before a babe who _called_ to his magic, when tiny hands grazed against his inhumanly-cold skin and a **warmth** flared to life deep in his chest, his breath stuttered in his chest.

"His name is Nyx." Alya told him bluntly, child cradled gently in her arms, and her eyes were wary - full of a quiet kind of grief and a desperate kind of love that stuck him like the first hammer of a nail. "Nyx Anatolios of Clan Ulric."

“Nyx Anatolios,” he murmured, _the dawn in the darkness_, and Alya smiled at him – vicious and angry and full of a gentle hate.

He would never have expected anything else from her.

She held the boy out to him and Ardyn nearly flinched away. But Nyx settled into his arms like he belonged there, smiling up at him.

The warmth of the bond in his chest burned, like the first touch of sunlight after years imprisoned.

He looked down at this small child - at _his son_ \- and a heart that he had killed long ago ached. His heritage doomed this child and, if monsters could cry then Ardyn would. Brushing his fingers gently across the infant’s head, he met Alya's eyes; certain in the knowledge that, if the Draconian was to find out, Nyx would die.

Or worse.

And Ardyn was a monster, was a nightmare, was a daemon given flesh, but in that moment he vowed that he would protect this child.

* * *

"Dad! You're back!"

He launched himself after his dad, completely forgetting what he'd just been doing, only to yelp as the man caught him by the back of his grass-stained shirt and dangled him in the air.

Nyx hissed.

With a slow glance around their little tree-root hiding place, his dad scoffed. "Have the little kittens been plotting again?"

Libs laughed and Nyx glared at him. _Betrayal_, he mouthed. Libertus, covered in muddy water and shivering a little, laughed harder.

"'m not a kitten!" he bristled, his hair standing on end as he batted useless at his dad's hands, wanting down. His hands, caked in mud and clay and other things, left dark marks against the sleeves of his father's coat. He blinked. "Oops."

His dad looked down at his sleeves.

Nyx wiggled free of his tshirt, landing nimbly and shooting a look at Libs - who sneakily reached behind him.

Libs nodded.

"Now!" He yelled, reaching down and launching the bowl at his feet - originally meant for a couple kids from the village - at his dad, throwing himself up the tree as he did so; grasping root and bark and branch to pull himself up, Libertus a half-step behind him.

They scrambled up, from branch to branch, from tree to tree, breathless and gasping, hearts racing, until they reached the top of the tallest tree in sight. They looked down, red-faced and giggling, looking for their unwitting victim.

Nyx froze.

Libs swallowed. "Where did he do?" he hissed.

"I don't know," he whispered back, blood pounding in his ears. His eyes flew frantically from side to side, squinting through brush and bush and finding nothing. "I don't know," he said again, almost silently.

He reached out and gripped Libs' hand tight.

His best friend squeezed back.

A throat cleared behind them.

They screamed; clutching at each other, shaking.

Dad, doused in mud from head to toe, _smiled_ at them both. "Did you truly believe you would escape from me?" He asked softly, eyes a bright gold against pale skin.

His dad stepped closer and he gulped, still clutching his best friend tight

He did the only thing he could think of.

Nyx jumped out of the tree.

Libertus screamed.

* * *

He crouched low, taking measured breaths even as aching lungs longed to heave in great gasps of air, his exhausted arms holding wooden blades steady.

Blood rushed in his ears.

Near silent feet took a single step forward, and then a second, another, every sense trained on the small clearing that he approached, searching for his target. The scrape on his arm - the result of stumbling over too-long limbs and barely catching himself before he slammed headfirst into a tree - tingled but he gritted his teeth against the pain, grateful that it had, at least, stopped bleeding.

Circling the clearing with wary eyes and finding no trace of what he looked for, he steeled himself.

He stepped into the clearing.

A moment passed.

Another.

Nothing.

Slowly, his heart rate settled, tense muscles relaxing, and he moved both of his blades to a single hand so that he could reach up to brush sweat and growing hair from his eyes. He smiled at the gentle chattering and the crunching of nuts from a squirrel in a tree.

Must be a baby, nuts not bones, probably teething.

Breath ghosted against his neck.

"Boo."

Nyx screamed.

He leapt a foot into the air even as he spun around, his arm flying out in something that was half-punch half-guard and as he did so something rose inside of him like a wave, unstoppable as the tide, and whatever it was flew past the figure looming behind him and into a tree before he could even think.

And then:

BOOM!

Lightning flashed, so bright that he shut his eyes, and when he opened them again he stared, wide-eyed, at the crater before him. He could taste smoke and ash on his tongue.

The clearing was silent.

What- he didn't- what?

As he panicked, something almost like warmth faded away from his eyes - leaving him blinking rapidly against what felt like a cold breeze.

"What in the heavens did the poor squirrel do to deserve a face full of lightning, little dawn prince?" His father laughed sharply.

"I'm not little," he protested reflexively before the words caught up in his brain. "And I didn't mean to, I wasn't aiming for the squirrel-"

"I'm sure your lack of aim is of great comfort to the kin of the now deep-fried squirrel."

"Dad," Nyx whined. It wasn't his fault, he wasn't the one who had decided to sneak up on him.

His father just shook his head, still laughing. "No, no. Obviously, you must learn to seek your aim true, else other innocent squirrels be sacrificed to a charred afterlife." He said between cackles, uncaring of Nyx's scowl. "Your shoulders were completely off and just what were you doing with your hands - that was no block nor blow that I have ever seen, obviously your mother is teaching you bad habits-"

"-the only bad habits here come from you, you surprised me-"

"-yes, yes, your spatial awareness also needs some work, you should have noticed my presence long before I could surprise you, but thankfully that is fairly easy to correct," the grin that grew on his father's face then sent shivers down his spine.

Nyx promptly decided that if he was going down then he was dragging Libs down with him, brotherhood oath and all.

The grin softened into something that was mostly smug, that should be a sneer but just felt sad, in the way that his dad sometimes did, and despite his irritation he felt the urge to hug his father. Just to make the sadness go away. "And your magic is such a vibrant colour - a beautiful shade of gold, I'll admit. However, obviously I have been remiss in the absence of your magical training to this point and that must be corrected. I am certain that your mother will allow me to schedule the lessons around your other activities until you grow proficient enough to not explode."

The ten-year-old blanched.

He loved his father, he did, and magic training sounded so _fun_ but he already had enough on his plate with his other lessons and he knew his dad.

Nyx was going to die.

His father laughed at him.

Rather suddenly, Nyx wished that he’d hit him. It wasn't like a little bit of lightning would have killed his dad anyway, it would have been fine and he wouldn't have had to deal with the laughter. And the comments.

And the _squirrel._

(Oh _Six_, mum was going to hear about that and so would 'Lena and then everyone else and it'd get back to the Old Man too and Nyx was never going to hear the end of this)

With that horrifying thought in mind, he reached for that same well of power - for that same feeling of warmth and cold and fluid and quick - within himself and then he punched.

A scattering of golden sparks flew from his fist, dancing in the air.

His father laughed harder.

The feeling of power faded away, leaving him exhausted, and he drooped - batting weakly at the hand that ruffled at his hair.

"Bloodthirsty little sparkler," his dad snickered.

Nyx regretted greatly.

* * *

Curled up against his dad's side, sun-warmed and comfy, Nyx hummed deep in his chest - the sound vibrating against his teeth in a way that almost made him giggle - as a big hand rubbed soothing circles on his back.

_Okay_, he decided, content and relaxed, melting into the warmth and the touch, curling closer to his dad. _I'm happy I didn't blow him up now_.

And then his dad shifted away from him as though to stand, his hand pausing as though to stop, and Nyx hissed, clinging tight.

His dad laughed, soft and hushed because of the girl curled at his other hip. "Peace, sparkler," he rumbled as Nyx curled in ever tighter, fists of the Coat pulling him close. "I mustn't leave quite yet."

The hand on his back picked up again and he relaxed, eyes falling shut from where they'd slit open as his fists relaxed, letting himself drift back to that warm space of almost asleep.

He still felt it, though, as Selena tugged sleepily on their father's shirt.

"Tell us a story." She demanded quietly, her tone taken straight from their current pillow.

"Oh?" He asked, a little mocking, amused but unbending.

His little sister looked at him.

_"Please?"_ Nyx begged, shamelessly adding his own pout to his sister's puppy eyes.

Dad told the **_best_** stories, even Libs agreed and his mum was the whole _village's_ Storyteller.

Their dad laughed. "Such demanding little royals I have here." He said, sighing so dramatically that _the Anemoi _must have felt it.

He made a face, copied by 'Lena. They weren't _royals_, he opened his mouth to protest.

Their dad just smirked at him, telling them to put up or shut up.

Nyx scowled but settled down.

"Now, where shall I begin? What tales worthy of a prince and princess can I spin...?"

* * *

_Breathe_, his father's voice echoed in his ear, in his blood, in his bones - coming from all around him, from right in front of him, from behind him, from nowhere at all.

_I **am** breathing_, he wanted to snap back, irritated because this wasn't working. _I'd be dead otherwise!_

He didn't say anything.

There was something - some sort of pressure, a warmth maybe, or just the _feeling_ of a Look - that told him his dad had figured out what he wanted to say anyway.

_Reach for the warmth, little dawn, reach for the warmth in your bones, for the tingling in your blood, for the part of yourself that _sings_._

He reached, again, for the fiftieth time, not expecting to find anything he hadn't already.

And then his mental quest meet brushed against something and oh-

Oh.

His breath caught.

The warmth wrapped around him.

His skin _danced_.

_Reach for it_, his dad whispered. _Reach for it and wrap yourself in it: touch it; taste it; feel it; **know** it._

His hands tingled.

_That is you, little prince. Your magic is _you_. The wildest parts of yourself - the scariest, the truest. Before you can control it, you have to know it, completely. Let yourself go, it will not consume you while I am here._

_Let it cover you, let it prickle at your skin, let it sing in your ears._

_And then, when you can hear it, release it, gently, and reach **out**._

He didn't want to let go, didn't want to back away.

_Reach out, little prince, reach towards the sky, towards the earth, towards the seas._

_Reach out._

Slowly, he slipped out of his magic, feeling the loss of the warmth instantly, so suddenly he wanted to cry, so suddenly his lungs burned and his skin ached.

He reached out, past his skin, reaching with his ears and his warmth and a little of his heart, and it ached - deep in his head, as he forced himself to reach _out_.

_Listen. _

He listened, warmth flaring as he tried and tried and tried and found nothing.

A hand brushed against his shoulders.

_Calm. Breathe. It will come to you, sun-prince, you simply have to listen_.

_Find the heart of the world and **listen** \- listen to how it sings._

Oh.

It was so loud, was all he could think as something inside his head clicked. Suddenly, the silence had been consumed by a mass of noise.

It was so loud.

And so beautiful.

How had he never noticed...?

_Good. Listen to it. Breath with it. Learn it. Then, let your magic sing _with_ it._

Let his magic-? He didn't understand.

He reached out, for the warmth inside of his warmth that felt like _dad_, for some sort of idea of what he was supposed to do and got nothing he could understand.

But this was his dad and obviously he knew what he should be doing and-

And suddenly, he wanted to be able to join in on the song.

He wanted to Sing like that.

Carefully, testing, he let a small piece of the warmth wiggle out from beneath his skin, giggling as it teased against his fingers, and then he shifted it, letting it brush against the song; listening to Song of his warmth and whispering to it and letting it _change_...

His world **expanded-**

-the trickling melody of the streams, the crooning of the leaves on the trees, the joyful coos of the wind in the grass, the bass of a beating heart beneath his knees, notes rising and falling and crashing and reaching a crescendo, angry and gentle and loving and hateful and big and little and cold and warm, a song that shouldn't work but was somehow the most beautiful thing he'd ever hear-

-and then it was all gone in a **_snap_**.

Nyx jolted, eyes flying open to bright sunlight, the last notes of the Song still echoing in his ears and his chest ached, suddenly, fiercely.

It was still there, just a reach away, but the world was silent and it _ached_.

His dad smiled at him, proud and loving and just as sharp. "You did it, sparkler." His smile edged into a smirk. "Now, you simply must continue to practice it while I teach you how to dodge."

"But I already know how to-?"

The rotten tomato that smacked into his chest knocked him over and he blinked up at his dad as the juice dripped down his skin.

Ardyn tossed another tomato in his hands. "Dodge." He ordered, smirk wide and eyes bright.

Nyx ran.

(It didn't help)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with the first scene of this  
Honestly, I hate it. It was the scene I was most looking forward to writing when I started this and I just can't get the image in my head down into words properly and I'm really disappointed in it  
But I've tried to rewrite it and that isn't working and I promised I'd have this up for the end of them month which is _today_ so  
Have at, I guess  
Welcome to the Ardynson Prequel


End file.
